


Coming Soon To A Life Near You

by callmechristinae



Series: Livejournal Migration [7]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-09
Updated: 2006-02-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmechristinae/pseuds/callmechristinae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark’s camera is very special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Soon To A Life Near You

Mark sat cross-legged on the table in the loft, a blanket draped over his shoulders and a warm cup of tea in his hands. His light blonde hair was sticking up in all directions, his face flushed from the tea’s steam. His eyes were closed in contentment as he enjoyed the silence of the loft. His camera sat next to him, similarly wrapped up in a towel. Mark sipped his tea thoughtfully, opening his eyes to gaze out the window. Images of the city floated through his head, his mind experiment with different subjects and angles. He placed a hand on the camera next to him, friends, strangers, landlords, and lovers flying across his brain faster than most would be able to process. His eyes drifted shut again, his eyelids fluttering slightly as his eyeballs shifted about randomly. The images all held a slightly unreal quality, making it seem as though he were looking through his camera. He was able to manipulate what he saw, adding to the sensation that he was filming.

He saw an elderly gentleman feeding pigeons in the park. He zoomed in to see the trembling of the man’s hand, the gentle way he fed the birds, and the soft smile on his face as a girl with bobbing pigtails, likely his granddaughter, asked to join him.

He saw Collins molding eager young minds on the steps to a library, focusing on the students’ reactions just as much as his friend’s friendly expression and quickly moving hands. Some students nodded with blank looks on their faces, feigning understanding, while the other students clearly showed their confusion.

He saw the cheerful pink, red, and white decorations filling the windows of stores he could barely afford to look at. Maureen and Joanne were just inside the frame on the left side, walking ahead with their hands clasped lightly together. Joanne leaned over to give her lover a soft peck on the cheek as Maureen giddily pointed out a giant teddy bear with a large red ribbon around its neck. He could barely make out Roger laughing to the right side of the frame.

He saw a cop giving a speeding ticket to the driver of a familiar looking Range Rover. He panned down to the street as the car drove away, keeping the tires in the top of the frame. He panned back to see the police officer shaking his head as Benny sped around the corner before returning to his car and reaching for the siren.

He saw Mimi spinning quickly on her pointed foot, her hair flying behind her. She smiled quickly before falling into the now familiar choreography of “Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch, turn, turn out, In touch, step, Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch, turn, turn, touch down, back step, pivot step, walk, walk, walk.” She easily finished her dance, her arms spread wide in the air and her eyes gleaming. She paused before stepping out frame, blowing a kiss with a giggle.

He saw Roger’s hand close up, pushing the camera away as he worked on a new song. There was a close-up of the acoustic guitar’s wooden body and taught strings as the songwriter leaned over the top of the frame to give a tender kiss.

Mark started when an image of himself flashed across his eyelids. The frame remained perfectly still, tilted on its side, as Mark saw himself struggle with Roger’s old drug dealer. A tiny girl was huddled against the opposite wall of the dark alleyway. The dealer reached into his jacket, the sunlight glinting off the knife just like it would in a bad horror movie.

Mark’s eyes shot open as he saw the dealer swing the knife at his side. His eyes then shot across the loft frantically as the door slammed open only to seeing a flushed and smiling Roger. He smiled as the songwriter shook leaves out of his hair, not bothering to think about how they got there. If he questioned everything strange about Roger, he wouldn’t have time for anything else.

Roger strode calmly across the room, only pausing to drop a kiss on Mark’s cheek. “How are you and the baby?” he asked, a wide grin on his face as he set about making coffee.

Mark’s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion before he looked down to his side and the wrapped up camera under his hand. “We’re fine,” he responded with a smile of his own. He picked the camera up, cradling it in his arms like he would a baby. 

Roger laughed at his roommate’s antics, pouring his coffee into the cleanest mug he could find before hopping up onto the table next to Mark. He calmly wrapped an arm around Mark’s shoulders, feeling the familiar warmth as the filmmaker leaned into his side. “Hey, are you busy today?”

Mark paused for a moment before responding with a negative sound.

“Well, while you were sleeping your laziness,” Roger teased, his light tone and soft kiss taking out any possible maliciousness, “our friends called asking for our presence.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Collins wants to grab some coffee and said for us to meet him at the library at eleven, Mimi wants to have lunch and said for us to meet her at the dance studio at one, and Maureen called and wants us to come with her and Joanne to go window shopping. I’m not really sure when she wants to do that, probably late knowing her, so I thought we could go for a walk through the park today too.”

Mark smiled before nodding and whispering a soft, “Sure.”

_Later that day_

Mark made his way gingerly out of the hospital, wincing as his movements pulled at his bruised skin. Roger fussed over him worse than a mother hen, ignoring the filmmaker’s protests and whining. The songwriter kept checking the bandage wrapped around Mark’s arm, covering up the knife wound. How big it was depended on which one of the two Bohemians you asked.

“Seriously, Roger. I’m fine. Just a couple bruises and a little cut,” Mark assured, brushing Roger’s hands away from his sleeve. Roger simply grunted in response, frowning as Mark winced again.

“You sprained your fuckin’ ankle Mark,” Roger sighed, looking down at the minor bandaging done around the filmmaker’s injured joint. The pained look on his face was obvious as he took in his roommate’s injuries, no matter how minor Mark claimed they were.

“You did the same thing trying to catch a taxi one time,” Mark chuckled in an attempt to cheer Roger up. The rocker smiled for a moment before his face turned serious again.

“This is different.”

“How?”

“Because it’s you and you got in a fuckin’ fight with a goddamn drug dealer!” Roger shouted, startling the pedestrians around them. He wrinkled his nose, almost growling at a business man looking at the two with disdain. The man quickly hurried away from the emotional Bohemian.

Mark sighed, knowing this was an argument he wouldn’t be able to win. He winced again as he put too much pressure on his injured ankle, gasping in surprise when Roger scooped him up. The songwriter paused for a moment, adjusting Mark’s weight in his arms as he placed one arm under the back of the filmmaker’s knees and the other around his back. He pressed a kiss to Mark’s forehead, almost to assure himself that the filmmaker was really okay.

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few blocks before Roger sighed. “But, there’s one thing I don’t get Mark,” he asked. 

“Yeah?”

“Why did you tell me to get the cops before we even saw them? I mean, we were about to round the corner and you got this funny look on your face, like you knew what was going to happen.”

Mark smiled gently, clutching his old camera to his chest. “The baby told me.” 

 


End file.
